


Traditions

by Ren (halfpick)



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:06:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27949529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfpick/pseuds/Ren





	Traditions

I have loved only one woman. She was... _is_ to this very moment, everything to me.

Her name was Paz Felicidad Villanueva y Favis, but her family fondly called her Piling. She was the youngest of four lovely sisters. I didn’t get to know her until she was twenty-two; she had already married. She was then a very young bride, but also an even younger widow.

We met on what is now called _Calle Crisologo_ , one Sunday afternoon. The street was filled with traders of abel cloth, indigo, and tobacco, but somehow the bustling crowd was silenced just by her mere presence. I was by the window when I saw her for the first time- the gorgeous glow that she basked under was very hard to turn away from. She paused and gently turned her gaze toward me- and from then on, I knew I would be hers.

I would watch her sit quietly while she prepared for her day, and I could not help but marvel at her beauty. Even at night when she undid her wrappings, her dark hair would unravel as she looked at me- but her eyes will always carry the sadness she would not speak of. It was not my place to say anything, but I had to let her know that I was there for her, no matter how long she needed to grieve.

I stayed with her until her older years and before I knew it, she had passed on. I will always remember her smiling at me- and trying to genuinely do so.

I’d long forgotten my proper name if I had ever been given any. But for the rest of this tale, you may refer to me as _The First_.

***

The streets of Vigan are a great place to people-watch: from the artsy-fartsy eccentrics to the history-drunken nerds. All sorts of people and tourists flock here day in and day out, and you’ll never run out of interesting folks to either make fun of or ogle at. 

This is what we twins do on a daily basis. We’re brother and sister; quite inseparable. Astonishingly identical too. But like the yin and yang of our Chinese ancestors, we are opposites. So even if ideally, we could be on the same side, for the sake of balance we’d prefer to take sides instead. We’d be fine by it and were used to it because it’s really how we’d been.

We liked hanging around the Heritage Village, because when we’d be done scrutinizing the people that pass by, we’d be left with the stunningly well-preserved townscape. 

Ooh. Look at that man with the bad-ass camera... Bet that monster snapper costs a fortune. Might as well buy a nice bike for the money you’d spend on that. It’s better to get around town with than a lame SLR, any day.

Oh, where are our manners? How could we have missed that lady with a basket full of flowers for a hat?! She’s practically screaming, “Hey bees, bugs and all things that fly! There’s a botanical garden on my head, come and pollinate!”

Oh. My. Gawd! Isn’t that like, the most cuddliest, adorablest, super huggablest baby in the world?! That slab of giggly cuteness deserves like a poke or something. Pronto!

Well, well, well... it’s about time. A pretty decently dressed customer! Hmm. Guess we should get going.

We’re called something really rad and fabulous at the same time, but for now you can call us _The Second_.

***

Everybody keeps talking about true love’s kiss like it’s such a big deal. I kiss a lot of people and I don’t think I’ve ever felt true love as their lips touched mine. Maybe because they’re too many, that I never get to distinguish what it should be like. Or maybe because I lack the primary apparatus needed to feel it – a heart.

I’m frequently found at a very quaint restaurant hidden in, imagine the hilarity of it, the Hidden Garden here in Vigan. It’s quite a ways from the city by _kalesa_ so if people end up here, they more or less meant to. But I guess it’s the serenity of the place so secluded that attracts tourists, even locals, to spend time here. 

I normally sit at the bar, completely clueless about who I’d be meeting for the night. I pretty much just get drawn to someone- sometimes a couple of people, one after another, or maybe all at at the same time- and then bam. We kiss. So this life-changing event for other people has become quite mundane, even routinary, for me. I hope you’ll understand my naïveté when it comes to this so-called true love’s kiss. 

Until the night I met her.

She beamed with a radiance that I’d never seen before. As soon as she sat in front of me, she was like a vision from a dream I never wanted to wake up from. She went on and on about random things and I was just bewildered at myself for actually paying attention. When she smiled, it was lethal. I could die and the only way I’ll live again is if she’d kiss me.

So sappy story short, I think – and I’m going out on a limb I don’t have here – that this would have been the infamous true love’s kiss.

She was about to have dessert and I that was usually when I’d charm my way to first base. But then she stood up while dapping her napkin against her lips, and walked away. I was crushed. And rather frustrated. _True love sucks_ , I thought. _To hell with all this good-for-nothing crap_. What a letdown. 

Before I could leave the table, I heard what was then the most beautiful sound- tapping heels, approaching. As if I rewound time, I was back to five minutes ago when I was desperately hoping to land a first kiss.

It happened with no warning, no gap. She reached for me and kissed me- her soft, heavenly and sweet lips enveloping mine. She took out everything from me- every last ounce of my soul. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back.

It’s just been months, but I feel like it’s been ages. Now, she’s finally in town again. Would you be surprised if I said I was on my way to see her at this moment?

By the way, I’m _The Third_.

***

My first memory was of a woman holding me to her chest, frantically walking around Plaza Burgos at night, and looking for something, maybe someone. I didn’t understand what she was saying, but she was desperately trying to get people to listen to her- and everyone shunned her away. She was in tears, and I didn’t know why.

Finally, she got a man to stay put. Middle-aged and bespectacled, he looked at her with pity, and eyed me with curiosity. For some reason he said something that made the woman carrying me breathe a great sigh of relief, and she gave me to him. He reached into his pocket and took out what looked like pieces of paper and some shiny round objects, and gave them to the woman. She sped off and never looked back. Meanwhile, as he held me for the first time with the utmost care, I saw in his eyes a glimmer of joy that I didn’t understand back then.

People can tell I’m not from Vigan. While everybody here was very polite, I knew that I was still an outsider. But I don’t think that it’s a bad thing – it’s because I’m not a local that I have the potential to be something different. Something special. My father – or the closest person to being one – had always told me that one day, I’ll appreciate being sold to him. I believe him and I know that I can achieve his dream for me.

He’s a craftsman and a jeweler, my father. I would watch him work tirelessly day and night. He had no other family, so the little he earned, he was very resourceful with. In his workshop just along the plaza, he would sit with me and tell me about the city’s history - and how in his little way he believes he’s become part of it. And one day, when I’m ready, he said I was going to be part of it too.

I didn’t want to be a brat and abuse his kindness, so whatever he said was good for me I said yes to. Someday, with my father’s help, people will see me at the plaza once again, but in a different way. I would be elegant and refined. I would no longer have to be carried around so recklessly.

It hadn’t occurred to me how long we’ve been together until Father looked at me and said, _You are ready, my dear_. I was unsure whether that was a good thing, or a bad thing... What if I don’t make him proud? What if I wasn’t special enough to be part of his dream?

And like all fathers, he just looked straight at me- his eyes filled with the same joy I saw when he first held me, and it flushed all my doubts away. 

I am ready. And it’s time I show myself to the world.

This is my story, and I am _The Last_.

***

December 15th, Sunday. Six thirty in the morning, and the sun paints a soft hue of orange from the horizon. The weather is expected to be ideal in Vigan- no clouds to obscure the breathtaking sky, just the right degree of warmth to make your cheeks blush, and gentle breezes from the North to keep you cool.

A perfect day for a wedding.

Alicia met her fiancé Hugo in Chicago while she was working there as a flight attendant. He has always adored the Philippines, where she’s from, so she suggested that they get married in one of its historic cities- which is really her dream wedding. They chose Vigan because of its rich culture and also because Alicia’s relatives are natives there. They’d visited the city before and even Hugo instantly fell in love with it.

As the morning preparations were underway, Penny, Hugo’s sister and her maid of honour, walks in on Alicia as she was helplessly trying to figure out how to wear her hair.

“You look beautiful. And you haven’t even gotten dressed yet.” Penny was almost in tears as she compliments the anxious bride.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better. This is a hopeless case. I won’t be surprised your brother decides to run away once he sees his bride in this mess,” Alicia shakes her head as she motions her soon to be sister-in-law in.

“He wouldn’t dare.” The maid of honour excitedly walks up to the bride. “Besides, I come bearing gifts.”

She holds out an intricately decorated box and sits next to Alicia.

“Now I know this is supposed to be a traditional Filipino wedding, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt if I shared some of our own traditions. Hugo and I are very superstitious too, but these are for good luck. I have some things I’d like you to have for today-

_**The first**_ , is your great-grandaunt Piling’s mirror. I heard it’s been in your family for generations and it’s absolutely a chic piece of history. Your mother says she’s been saving it for you all these years but never found the right occasion to give it to you. So, ta-da. _Something old_.

_**The second**_ , is a pair of classy gold drop earrings I found at the Chinese novelty shop while I was at the Heritage Village. You can wear them if you still refuse to wear the pearls Hugo gave you out of fear of bad luck. _Something new_.

_**The third**_ , is the wine glass you drank from the night Hugo proposed to you at that restaurant in the Hidden Garden, while you were here visiting Vigan for the first time. You were so flustered after you said yes that you almost didn’t even get to drink your wine before leaving. This, however, is just on loan. _Something borrowed_.

_**The last**_ , and this I’m quite proud of, is a sapphire necklace from Vigan’s most celebrated jeweler. He said this piece holds quite the sentimental value to him and he requests that you wear it when your _kalesa_ passes by his workshop at Plaza Burgos on your way to the reception. _Something blue_.”

Alicia again shakes her head, this time in disbelief, and turns to hug Penny. 

And as luck would have it, this turned out to be the most talked about and envied wedding in Vigan in so many years.


End file.
